


Grimm, Spirits, and Spirits

by adelindschade



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Bad Puns, Diana schade-renard - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, kelly burkhardt - Freeform, mentions of - Freeform, short fic, some suggestive smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelindschade/pseuds/adelindschade
Summary: Prompt: Nick and Adalind are in New Orleans to retrieve their kids from mischief - shenanigans and tons of fluff, corny humor, and ghost puns ensue.
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt/Adalind Schade
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Grimm, Spirits, and Spirits

**Author's Note:**

> A throw-up piece I wrote up to brainstorm; enjoy!

**_Grimm, Spirits, and Spirits_ **

_An impromptu family vacation to the grand city of New Orleans… and the shenanigans that inevitably follow…_

Nick could feel her eyes boring into his side; he didn’t need to glance at his peripheral to know she had an agenda – but he did nonetheless, and like clockwork, he struggled to not cave when his eyes connected with her ‘innocent’ blues – the very pair that, when added with a particular pucker of the lips, could make a man just about do anything.

She was a professional, damnit.

But Nick was just not any man. He was all too familiar with her tactics. Twenty-some years they’d done circles around the other. A third spent at the other’s throats – and the other two-thirds spent, well, at each other’s throats – but that was their weird kink.

She was slowly sipping her Hurricane – not the first and surely not the last – and purposely pinched the straw to keep it in place between her lips as she waited for his resolve to crumble. A perk of the brow; slow turn of a smile; and show of teeth biting the plastic – tested-and-proven strategy to disarm him.

“No,” he declared, low and slow. He meant business.

True to form, she was not the slightest bit deterred.

She, too, was accustomed to his own mechanisms. A stern man with a steel spine. The key to breaking the notorious Burkhardt was either wear him down – or, if time sensitive – appeal to his compassionate side. He was a softie under the façade of the seasoned homicide detective and if she pressed the right buttons, she’d continue her impeccable winning streak.

She wasn’t one of the highest paid attorneys in Portland for nothing.

“Nick,” she whined. Her voice was soft, pouting her bottom lip as she did.

“No,” he tried to hide his laughter, grunting roughly before a chuckle breached. “Absolutely not,” he repeated, sterner. He shook his head, trying to break eye contact.

“Have a drink,” she eased, offering her own concoction. “C’mon. Just taste it.”

“I already had one,” he dismissed. The proof had long since been disposed of – a measly beer, nowhere near as potent as her own.

“Nick,” she repeated, narrowing her eyes slightly. Nick wavered, assessing which lengths she’d go to make her point; and rather than take the risk of incurring a greater wrath, concluded a sip wouldn’t kill him.

“OOH,” Nick yelped upon swallowing. The alcohol burned something fierce. “That is – wow – jeez! How can you drink this? Wow. Oomph!”

“Light weight,” she teased, smirking. She reclaimed her drink, taking a generous sip.

“Coming for you?” Nick retorted, suspicious. She was easily a foot shorter than he – and half his weight. He could pick her up with one arm and tote her across the room if he so desired – but he didn’t, because he was a sane man, and did not have a death wish. “One more and you’ll be knocked out.”

She harrumphed and victoriously raised her half-empty cup. “You severely underestimate my liver.”

“You say that now until they ask me to donate mine to keep you alive,” Nick countered haughtily.

“Until then,” she compromised with a gleaming grin, “let’s have fun. It’s been a while since we’ve been out. We’re in this magical city. I’m surprised you haven’t hit me with your ridiculous witchy puns yet.”

That got him to grin, despite his best efforts to suppress his amusement.

“We shouldn’t be having fun when our delinquent kids lied to us about what they were doing,” Nick accused. “We’re here to drag their asses back home.”

“It’s Spring Break.”

“They said they were going to Colorado.”

“Nothing fun happens in Colorado,” Adalind frowned, almost as if to agree with their logic.

“Adalind,” Nick warned softly. “Colorado and New Orleans are completely different cities.”

“Diana is with him; He’s with her – it’s a perfect balance. If she gets too excited, he reigns her in, and if he gets all huffy with someone, she defuses the situation before it can escalate. I trust them. They are practically adults.”

“Kelly isn’t yet,” Nick hardened his voice. “He’s seventeen. He has no business being down here and they both know it. That’s why they lied.”

“You would’ve thrown fit.”

“What am I doing now?”

“Sulking,” she accused. “I’m drinking alone in this great bar, in amazing weather, and I’m wearing a sundress. A sundress! You never see me in these! You’re just making yourself miserable. And you’re killing my mood. That’s not okay,” she said, poking his forearm aggressively.

“Adalind,” he intercepted. He confiscated her offending hand, and then tenderly placed it between his own. “Adalind,” he soothed, patting her palm. “You’re look beautiful as always. The city has nothing on you. It just highlights what we already know – you’re absolutely bewitching.”

“Ugh! No! I should’ve seen that coming,” she whined, throwing her head back. A cascade of blonde waves followed, shimmering in a stream of sunlight. She tried to retract her hand, but it was a futile effort. When he did release it, he replaced his own onto her knee, keeping it in place.

Nick uttered a booming laugh, breaking the solemn mood.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Nick chuckled.

“You owe one in the pun jar,” she decreed.

“Or, despite my better judgment, I can just bribe you with another drink,” Nick amended.

“Only if you drink half,” she negotiated with slit eyes. Under her icy stare, he raised his hands in surrender.

“Another hurricane?”

“No, weakling – a bloody Mary,” she decided.

Nick snorted.

“Whatever joke I know is bubbling up and out your mouth right now, I swear to all things sacrilegious, you better bite your tongue,” she hissed.

“Would you like to make it three?” Nick defied, gesturing to the long mirror behind the bar – reflecting the couple.

“I hate you,” she groaned, whimpering. “That’s not – OH MY… This is going to be terrible. I have to put up with this…”

“You’ve put up with it for seventeen years, sweetheart,” Nick chuckled.

“Remind me again why I married you,” she asked.

He feigned a moment to ponder. “Good looks; stable career; the appeal of dangerous lifestyle; oh, opposite attraction,” he listed off smugly. “Oh – yeah – _I saved your life multiple times_.”

“I saved yours, too!” Adalind shrieked. “Jeez, way to toot your own horn. Your ego is way too inflated.”

“The pot calling the kettle black,” he redirected, knowing she was riled.

“Can we just go and find our kids, so I don’t have to listen to your terrible puns at my expense,” she groaned. She pouted and pleaded with her eyes, the same look that could crumble a lesser man.

“You’re going to have to survive, dear,” Nick said as he hopped off the stool. She was slow to follow, cautious of her footwear. He held out his hands to help her off and then settled one on her back, preparing to guide her out of the bar and onto the street which it opened up to. As she gathered her crossbody bag, he stole a peck onto her temple. “You always do.”

“You’re mean,” she complained but neither were convinced. His smile was contagious.

“I take it easy on you,” he soothed, pulling her closer. A strong breeze passed by, disturbing the light white fabric of her skirt. The flowing movement distracted his eyes momentarily, reminding him of just how good she looked in the sundress. She had a point earlier – and he made a mental note to validate her much, much later in the night. “Our kids will not be rewarded the same mercy,” he added, crinkling his nose.

“Luckily we’re in a city where I could probably find what I need to raise them back from the dead at the closest corner store,” she played along.

“That’s the plan!” he sang, stepping out onto the cobblestone behind her.

BREAK

NEXT CHAPTER

“This is all hocus pocus,” a female announced.

A snort replied.

“What? I can say it!” she replied to her counterpart. She sounded defensive. “You can’t. You’ve exhausted all those jokes.”

“No – I’m not talking about the movie,” the male responded. “I’m referring to this. So, this is all fake?”

“This is,” she amended. “The real stuff is hidden. This is just… like a love spell? Please. This is just a tea bag dressed up in a fancy bottle.”

“Yeah, definitely not weird blood cookie recipe,” he replied chuckled.

“Wonder what Kelly would be looking for in a place like this when we got the books at home,” she mused.

“Once we find him, I’m sure we’ll get an answer out of him,” the male threatened; his voice sounded darker.

“Oh shush, you were in a better mood once we got those beignets; don’t tell me the calories are wearing off so soon… Oh! Nick! You still have sugar on your face! Oh my…” she slipped into laughter, the heartier kind.

“Very funny,” he deadpanned. “Better? Is it gone?”

“Yeah,” she stammered, coughing towards the end. A giggle slipped once more. “I wish I took a picture…”

The owner perked from the bookshelf which had obstructed him. A couple had entered the old apothecary-turned-giftshop only moments ago, alerted by a sharp ring of the bell attached to the door.

The couple was unaware of his gaze, haunting the front aisle casually as they chastised his window display. By the sound of it, they knew more than what met they eye, and his guard was up just in case the woman was anything like his previous visitors.

She was much shorter, but the resemblance was eerie – blonde, attractive, and accompanied by a broad-shouldered dark male who had a stern expression, as if in constant vigilance. The male put him off – Nick, he noted from her statement – as he bore a startling resemblance to the earlier boy. While the boy seemed friendlier in demeanor, the older man had a foreboding aura – the kind that sent the hairs up all over his body.

“Welcome!” He introduced, swallowing his skepticism. The couple spun on cue; eyes trained onto him. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Have you seen a couple of kids?” The male spoke over his companion, who, if he heard right, uttered something like, “oh yes!” before her question was muted by the man.

“Well, they aren’t really kids; one is twenty-one but she’s _really_ tall, so she might look older,” the blond interrupted. “She might be with her brother, who’s a couple inches shorter than her – this tall,” she gestured with her hand up to her companion’s (husband’s?) chin. “Looks just like him – but his eyes are grey-blue, not green.”

“Your children?” He presumed.

“Yes,” she nodded, drawing out her answer.

“But you… you look too young,” he complimented, trying to ease the atmosphere. “You don’t look like you have adult children.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” she accepted.

“So, you’ve seen them,” _Nick_ circumvented.

“Ah – well…” he stammered. The tempered blonde had threatened him; and the boy was a Grimm. A Grimm was a dangerous thing, especially in that hub of town.

_“Have. You. Seen. Them.”_

“Stop, you’re scaring him!” the blonde slapped his chest with the back of her hand. It barely made a dent; more so, the action made him realize how built the man was – and the puff of his chest was not a show. His defense was instantly up.

She was smaller, less alarming, but the way she spoke earlier had clued him in that she was more knowledgeable, hinting she may be more than a pretty face.

“We’re looking for our kids. They’re not supposed to be here, without us, and we’re worried. If you’ve seen them, it’d help us a lot. They’re looking at local book shops. I’m not sure for what but they’re looking for something.”

_A resurrection spell, the kind to conjure the dead,_ the man recalled. The boy was hesitant to delve but his sister – the sister was the dominant voice, determined to get her hands onto something to revive someone. The boy… he was willing but not enthusiastic. Previous warnings from sensible shopkeepers and other practitioners must’ve struck a chord but the blonde was relentless, jumping from one door to the another until she could find what she needed.

Her threat weighed heavy on his conscious but being stared down by a man of this caliber had equal measure.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Both.”

The woman’s face lit up; the man’s hardened.

“When?” she inquired excitedly. Her tone was deafened by her husband’s, who’s own ‘ _when_ ’ came off as a demand – cold and concise.

“Thirty minutes ago,” he replied earnestly.

“What were they looking for?” the man ordered.

“A book of the dead,” he caved. “The blonde – your daughter – she seeks to revive an old friend? Someone who has passed. The boy followed but he has more sense to be weary.”

“Resurrection??” the woman repeated, flabbergasted.

The man huffed, squeezed his eyes shut, and pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation.

“I told them it is unwise but…”

“She won’t listen,” the man cut him off curtly. “Not this time.”

“Nick!”

“When she gets her mind set on something, nothing can sway her. Now she has Kelly roped into this mess,” he growled. He massaged his temples, frustrated.

“Sounds like someone I know,” she accused, matching his tone.

“Don’t blame me,” he remarked drying.

“I’m not! Instead of being pissy, let’s find our kids before they get into more trouble,” she refocused. “And while we’re at it, let’s not play the blame game – Diana would not even know where to start if it wasn’t for Kelly’s resourcefulness.”

“He takes after you,” her husband reproached.

“And she takes after you!” she hissed, pointed an accusing finger. “She learned from you!”

“She takes after her father! Him and meddling and…” he was rendered silent mid-rant when he found himself the recipient of a stormy glare that would unsettle a seasoned sailor.

“ _And who is her father?!_ The one who’s name she carries or the one who raised her? Whose mother raised her?? Consider Sean has been in and out the past eleven years while he’s tending to a different kind of seat, there’s only one other man I can think of she’d call Dad.” She raised her voice. “She. Takes. After. You. And yeah, a bit of Sean, too, and a little bit of me but unlike Kelly and I, she doesn’t know when to call it quits… that sounds familiar. It’s a Burkhardt quality! _Not a Renard. Not a Schade._ ”

It was a standstill. She was riled. He was rigid.

He deflated. “I’m sorry. I’m frustrated and I really, really want this fiasco to be done with.”

“So. Do. I.” She muttered between clenched teeth.

“And Kelly is just as much as a participant as his sister; he probably did most of the leg work,” Nick agreed.

“So, we kill them both,” she mused bitterly.

“And revive them with the very book they’re in hot pursuit of,” Nick grinned tightly.

“After we find out who they are trying to return to the land of the living,” she nodded.

“And destroy said-book to prevent any future mishaps,” Nick added.

“Before Kelly can memorize it,” Adalind hastily amended.

“Before he can memorize it,” Nick repeated in agreement.

BREAK

NEXT CHAPTER

Overlooking the parade of people crowding the streets two stories below them, Nick instinctively held onto Adalind tighter. She leaned against his chest, turning her head enough to rest her cheek on his shoulder. His arms wound around her torso and his nose skimmed her forehead, breathing in her scent.

Diana’s words unnerved him – that she wanted to learn the ritual in case something had happened to Adalind, just like when ‘ _something happened’_ to his own mother. He had been transported back to that moment: the weight of hopelessness had cut off all his senses, condemning him to a moment suspended forever in the balance – stuck in a suffocating panic…

Though it happened nearly two decade ago, the wound still ached. The loss of his mother impaired him in some ways, making him more vulnerable to other losses. Diana had witnessed it first-hand and the idea of losing Adalind on top of seeing both his kids in the same distress he had once been victim to had shaken his core.

He could understand their motive. He couldn’t blame them. The mere thought prompted him to press a chaste kiss onto her forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured softly. He rocked her gently.

“Love you, too,” she reciprocated warmly, bringing her hand up to caress his cheek.

“If something happens to you,” he began.

“If something happened to me,” she interrupted, “I’m telling you the same thing I told Diana: let it be. I won’t be the same if you bring me back. It won’t be worth it.”

His grip fastened. “I can’t lose you.”

“And I know you won’t let anything happen to me,” she assured. “And if something does, it’s out of your control. You know I love you, and the kids know they are my entire world. Not even death can sever that bond.”

He breathed her in, closing his eyes in mediation.

“You’ll come back, won’t you? Do something witchy on the other side?”

She chuckled. “You’re stuck with me. In this lifetime and the next. Trust me, if I go first, I’m haunting you until it’s your time, too. You’ll know it.”

He laughed along. “Some séance shit, huh?”

“Little messages on the wall: _don’t forget trash tomorrow_ ,” she mimicked a ghostly tone.

“Not even death can spare me from your nagging,” he teased.

“If you ever remarry, I’m making sure she doesn’t change a damn thing about my house,” she added. “Every little adjustment, I’ll undo! New paint? Uh, no! Here’s blood on the wall. If she wants to upgrade my kitchen? Or change the countertops? She’s going to have to deal with flying pans and slamming cabinets. I’m going full poltergeist on her.”

That coaxed a hearty laugh from the Grimm. “She won’t dare touch the garden!”

“The garden is sacred! She better not! Or so help me, I’m Blair Witching her ass.”

Nick grew louder, nearly trembling. She shook alongside with. 

“I’m not remarrying – I promise,” he assured, wiping his cheeks. “I don’t think I ever could. After you, there’s no second act.”

Adalind was pondering her reply but Nick beat her to the punch.

“I wouldn’t be mad if you remarried, if the tables were turned. I want you to be happy, and supported, and more than anything, I don’t want you to be alone – or feel like you have to continue on by yourself.”

“There’s no one like you, Nick,” she replied softly. She reclined deeper into him, curling onto his lap. “You better not leave me first. I don’t know how I could go back to life without you.”

“If I do, it’s out of our control, but just know – I’ll be haunting you, too,” he teased. He brushed her hair aside and resettled his hands around her waist, enjoying how easily she fit in his embrace.

She giggled. “A Poltergeist Grimm?”

“A helpful one,” he smiled. “Doors will always be locked so no intruders can trespass; the lights will conveniently turn on when you need them or off when you don’t; no leaky faucets…”

“You’re a very boring ghost,” she joked.

“You’ll never sleep alone,” he promised.

“Creepy….” She humored, turning her head upwards to meet his eyes, “but sweet.”

“I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Creepy but sweet?”

“Exactly.”

“I was going to say unorthodox.”

“Same thing,” he said with a shrug.

“Yet functional,” she amended.

“Oh, for sure,” he beamed, capturing her lips with his own. “By the way,” he mumbled, going for another second attempt.

“Hmm?” she moaned, as her lips were occupied.

“Did I mention,” he whispered huskily, “how good you looked,” he continued, cupping his hand under her knee, “in this dress?”

“You’re incorrigible,” she laughed aloud. “Let me guess: even though I look good in this dress, I look better with it off?”

“You took the words out of my mouth,” he smirked. “And… because our kids are in a whole different hotel… we don’t have to worry about psychologically scarring them…”

She pursed her lips, musing over her next response. “What’s ever stopped us before?” she aroused. “Though… we might mentally scar the resident ghost. Supposedly our hotel is haunted by some old civil war soldiers.”

“They haven’t seen some action since the 1800s,” Nick humored.

“I don’t like anyone watching,” she whined.

“What will they do? _Spectate??_ ”

“Yes! Because they’re specters!” She shrieked, laughing into his shoulder. He used the opportunity to hoist her up, one arm around her waist and the other reaching towards the balcony door leading inside. She yelped, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Screw the ghosts.”

“I thought you were going to screw me!”

“I am! And if some gross old ghost wants to watch, I’m not sharing!”

“Gross!” her laughter rang out. “ _Oi!_ ” She yipped, landing on the bed with a soft ‘ _thump_ ’.

“I forgot the door…”

“I’ll get it!” Adalind volunteered, closing the door rather roughly from afar – flicker her wrist with ease.

Whatever commotion resumed was deafened by the street-wide festivities – and if any neighbors complained of thumps in the night – it’s probably the ghosts. Definitely the ghosts.

And that one scream in the middle of the night?

Definitely the ghost.

END


End file.
